


Nightwalker

by Anonymous



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Sex, M/M, Pre-Canon, Prostitution, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Vandermorgan only in the second optional chapter, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Colm O'driscoll, but everything between Arthur and Colm is consensual, i am so sorry i dont even know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24996793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Arthur had to find new, creative ways to bring in money when Hosea ordered him to keep a low-profile back in Wichita.Keeping secrets, however, never seemed to turn out well for him.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Colm O'Driscoll, Arthur Morgan/Colm's brother
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58
Collections: anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> deeply sorry for this

In the end, it all came down to money. They were not starving; far from it as the latest heist seemed to give them quite a large amount of cash. Most was spent, as usual, by giving it away to the poor. 

Some was spent on new clothes for the three of them. When they finally left Kansas, they were fully stacked up on food, medicine, and ammunition. They headed west. 

It wasn't about money, and at the same time it was.

He prided himself on being useful by always bringing back his share. Even back in that city Wichita (where they were holed up), he refused to let that change. They had spent a little over three months in the place. Dutch and Hosea were working on some long con that they didn’t want him to get involved in. Meanwhile, he was given clear instructions to not cause any trouble in that town, which meant no robberies or thieving unless it was pick pocketing. 

That meant that he either could accept leeching off of their resources for as long as Hosea and Dutch deemed it necessary for them to keep a low profile, or find some other way to prove his worth.

He always fell back on whoring in the end. As it was easy money; even easier if he got some whiskey in him before starting and after it was done.

He’d done a lot of worse things for cash before. 

The reward of it was seeing Dutch and Hosea’s happy faces whenever he brought home a wad of dollars. It never failed to make him feel like it was all worth it. He just hoped they never would find out how he earned his keep. 

It’s because of them that he decided to go out tonight. The tension between them was so insufferable that he needed to get away just for a bit. 

Because there was something  _ bothering  _ Hosea and Dutch. 

While their latest job had brought in a lot of money, it seemed like they’d pissed off the wrong man in doing so. They left Wichita in such a hurry that Arthur almost got worried. Last time they had to flee a town it was because Hosea seduced the wrong woman, some oil baron’s daughter. Caught them in the act, he did, and Hosea almost got killed in the process. All that chaos for one woman. He thought Hosea wrote to her sometimes. So perhaps, it wasn’t all for nothing. 

Arthur would be pretty pissed if that was the case again, but Hosea really didn’t seem like the type. Unlike Dutch and himself, Hosea always seemed to learn from his past mistakes. 

He was curious, though, what caused them to flee now.

He knew better than to ask--not when Dutch was in the mood that he was in. Both Hosea and he seemed to have some sort of disagreement that he really didn’t want to get involved in. Whenever he tried to meddle between them, it always ended up with Dutch and Hosea trying to get him to pick sides.

When approaching the horses, he saw that it was Hosea keeping watch. 

“I am heading into town for a bit,” he said, approaching the man and already preparing arguments in his head. 

“Arthur,” Hosea said with a sigh. “Are you going out drinking again?”

“No,” was his quick response. “No, I just...” He tried to come up with something to convince Hosea and settled for the easiest lie. “I met a girl in town.”

Hosea gave him a look, and Arthur felt himself blushing.

“We’ve only been here for two days, and you’ve already charmed a lady?”

“You know me Hosea, I can’t charm anyone.” 

“Oh, don’t say that Arthur,” Hosea said, and Arthur waited for the punch line. Hosea always had some joke prepared. “Ladies find the dumb, Adonis type very charming.” 

There it was. 

“Adonis? That wasn’t the motherfucker, was it?” 

“No, that was Oepedius,” Hosea said. “And don’t let Dutch hear you confuse the two, or I suspect he will want you to learn the classics again.”

“And you don’t want that?” 

“Well, we won’t let you near the high society anytime soon, only them seem to care about the Greeks these days.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur said impatiently. “Can I go?”

“Of course.” Hosea said. “What kind of man would I be if I let you keep a lady waiting?” 

“Thanks, Hosea.” 

Not wanting to waste any more time, Arthur turned around to saddle up on his horse. 

“And Arthur,” Hosea called out as an afterthought. “Be careful, will you?”

“You know me, Hosea, I’m careful as a cat around water.”

“Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Watch out for boars!” Hosea shouted after him. 

Probably something to do with the Greeks again.

\--

Sitting in this run-down saloon, he realized he misses Wichita. 

Staying in the same place for too long was always risky, but it was also helpful when trying to get some money at the end of the night. You become familiar with the people, build up a reputation among the other men in town; those who the working women couldn’t satisfy. 

In this town, he had free rein, so it wasn’t all bad. Hell, if he couldn’t find someone tonight, he could just find some drunk feller to rob instead. It’s not like he had to care about laying low. They were leaving soon, judging by how jittery Dutch was with him earlier in the day when they stopped by the saloon earlier to grab some food. He wouldn’t be surprised if they already were all packed up and ready to ride off as soon as he got back. 

If he barked up the wrong tree here, he could shoot his way out of it. He couldn’t do that back in Wichita, Hosea being insistent on him keeping his cool and not to cause any problems.

“Arthur Morgan,” a raspy voice next to him called out as a strong arm wrapped itself around his waist. The strong smell of smoke that the man emitted almost stung his nose. “Didn’t think I’d see you, again.” 

He didn't bother to hide how surprised he was.

“The hell are you doin’ here, Colm?” he asked while turning, coming face to face with the man. 

Colm tsk-ed. “It almost sounds like you don’t want me here.”

‘I don’t,’ Arthur wanted to say, just to wipe away that self-satisfied smirk from the man’s mouth, but they both know that would be a lie. He hated to admit it, but Colm is a welcomed sight; a familiar face among all these strangers.

He doesn’t have to worry about finding new clientele tonight.

He didn’t know Colm well enough to say that he liked him, but he liked the way Colm looked at him, liked the way Colm genuinely seemed to like him. All the other men he met, they wanted some sort of act, sometimes a son, sometimes a wife, sometimes just silence. 

Colm, for some strange, incomprehensible reason, just wanted him.

A rugged man, his broken nose giving a vulture like look to him, even more so in the coat he sometimes wore, the one with fur around its collar. Everything about him screamed foul, from the mean look to his face to the scars on his body, scars Arthur himself knew all too well, scars that said no matter how nice Colm was to him, he was a dangerous man. 

That made Arthur wonder just how depraved he, himself was, for enjoying Colm's company so much. The man was at least twenty years his senior, older than Hosea. Even with his ruggedness and greasy hair, he still had some charm to him. He handsome in a way that he didn’t bother trying to understand. His brother was handsome in a more traditional way with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw. However, Arthur preferred Colm and the way he lavished attention on him whenever they met. That, and his brother was a dumb motherfucker; he had never met a nastier man--a cheapskate too. 

What kind of fool tries to haggle on a blow? Aidan O’Driscoll, that’s who. 

He had socked him in the jaw over that, which Colm had found hilarious. Colm even bought him a drink to reward him over teaching his brother a lesson. 

If Colm was here, his brother would be skulking about as well. He let his gaze run over the crowded saloon again. There Aidan was, speaking to some men in the corner of the room. 

It was odd, though, for Colm and his brother to show up here. Last he heard, they were headed towards Illinois. 

“Say, Colm, you haven’t been following me, have ya?” Arthur asked, to which Colm grinned, as if the thought of it was so ridiculous that it was amusing. 

“Now, why would I do that?”

“You were going east, last time we spoke.”

“And now, I venture west, where the real prospects lie,” with a laugh he continued, “But I can act like I chased ya, if that’s what you want to hear. Bet you would like that.”

“If that was the truth, then I’d tell you to get lost.”

“You don’t want me to leave, you would miss me if I did.” 

“I’d miss your money. You I could do without.” 

Colm’s hand moved from his waist, down to his hip. “It’s always money with you, ain’t it? I have some for you, if you ain’t too busy.”

Arthur didn't even have to consider it. After all, he went to the saloon for that purpose, squeezing some money out of some poor lonely fella’. 

“Sure,” he drawled. 

Arthur looked to the corner of the saloon, again to see if he can manage to wrangle some more money out of the brothers by convincing Aidan to join them. 

He’s gone, though, with the rest of their entourage. 

“Where is your brother?” Arthur asked. 

There was something in Colm’s eyes. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something strange. “Oh, he’s running an errand for me. Why you asking?”

“He usually wants to join in.” Arthur said with a shrug. “You got someplace we can be then?”

“I got us a room here.”

“And the owner? He won’t talk?”

“Don’t you worry,” Colm said, leading him away towards the door just next to the bar. “He’s a friend of mine.”

Arthur snorted. “Already making friends?”

Colm just hummed in response, and led him up the stairwell, towards the room at the very end of the hallway. 

The room he rented was sparsely decorated, even for a small-town saloon, but it was clean, and that’s all he asked for. It was a lot better than an alley. That was for certain.

“What would you have me do?” Arthur asked.

“I’m looking for the full experience tonight.”

While  Colm rummaged around in his satchel, he sat down on the bed. He brought out five dollars, which he threw towards Arthur; that and a small tin of pomade. 

Colm continued to rummage around though. When he turned around again, he was holding ropes in his hands. 

“I’ve been wanting to try this for a while,” Colm said, holding them up. “What do you say?” 

“You wanna tie me up?” Arthur asked. 

“You got a problem with it, sugar?” Colm asked. 

He did have a problem with it. He had been tied up before by lawmen, mostly--very rarely by John’s. Well, most of the time those John’s were lawmen, trying to enact some revenge fantasy on some outlaw they couldn’t touch. 

It made him laugh, thinking about how those sheriffs and deputies, and what they would do if they knew who he really was and knew of the bounty on his head. They’d probably cum in their pants, the filthy bastards.

He never did like it, though. It was risky and made him feel even more exposed than he already was. 

On the other hand, Colm was a good client and he pays well. He never gave him a reason to distrust him. 

“...That’s five dollars extra,” Arthur finally said. “If you really find it so important.”

“You’re a greedy whore, ain’t ya?” Colm said, and laughed when Arthur scowled at him. “Tell you what, I’ll give you fifty, only ‘cus I like you.” 

Fifty goddamn dollars. 

With that kind of money, he could buy a whole new saddle for Hosea, one with better support for the man’s back. 

“I can’t say no to that,” he said. “If you try anythin’ funny, I’ll kick your teeth in.” 

“Oh, I know you will,” Colm said with a grin.

Arthur made a move to unbutton his jacket, but Colm held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks. He got the hint and let his arms drop to his sides. Colm began to work on his clothes, his greedy hands roaming over his body, touching, and squeezing all over.

He ends up on his back on the bed, and Colm quickly went to work on his boots and trousers, too. Everything came off in a fast and smooth motion. After all, he had gotten a lot of practice as he had undressed him so many times before. 

“Have I told you how pretty you are, Arthur?” Colm asked, his voice heavy. “Prettiest boy in town.”

“Many times, Colm.” 

Colm straddled him as he tied his hands to the bedpost with thick, scratchy ropes. He was good at what he did, the rope was tied so hard that he was afraid for a moment that they’d cut off the circulation to his hands. 

“Too tight?” Colm asked as if reading his thoughts. 

“Not at all.” 

He felt the hardness of Colm’s erection against his stomach, and that made him snort. 

“What’s so funny, kid?” Colm asked.

“’S nothin’,” Arthur said. “Just wonderin’ if you’ll even be able to fuck me, feels like you’re seconds from coming in your pants. Guess that’s what old age does to you, huh?” 

Colm slapped him. It stung, but he could not help but to feel excited by it. Something must have shown on his face because Colm grinned, making his face look even more so like a rat’s. 

“Oh Arthur,” he said. “You never fail to make me laugh.” 

“And you never fail to make me gag. You stink,” Arthur said. It’s not just to rile Colm up as the scent of sweat and tobacco is heavy in the air, even more so when Colm removed his shirt. “Didn’t I tell you last time that you need to take a goddamn bath before trying to stick your prick in me?”

Not that it would help much, he thought, the stench of cigarette seems to be ingrained in that man’s skin. 

“I gave you fifty dollars, kid,” Colm said. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll gag you.” 

He pinched his nipple and laughed when he heard the gasp that escaped Arthur’s lips. “No, you won't.”

Colm snickered. “Guess you’re right,” he responded and grabbed the tin with pomade from the side table. “I like that mouth of yours, Arthur, even when you’re being a little bitch.”

The bastard didn't even take off his trousers. Instead, he hiked them down, pulled out his thick cock, already leaking from the tip. He coated it well in pomade, almost makes a show out of it. 

Colm took his place in between Arthur’s legs. His hand was all slippery when he grasped his hips to steer him right. 

The preparation, as always, leaves something to be wished for. Still, he was grateful that Colm bothered at all, even if it’s just a finger or two. He didn't expect that of anyone; finds it to be a hassle to ask them to ease him up first with their fingers.

The slick is always non-negotiable though. They ones who tried to talk themselves out if it woke up in a ditch with their money gone and, hopefully, with a headache that made them think twice before trying to fuck anyone dry again. 

It stung when Colm pushed in, even though he has been generous with the pomade. With one hand on his hip to steady himself, already breathing like he’s run a mile and panting in his ear, Colm pushed even further in a slow pace until he was fully buried inside of him. 

“You okay there, sugar?” Colm asked. 

“You ain’t that big,” was Arthur’s response, which earned another laugh out of the older man. 

Glad someone finds him amusing, he thought. 

Colm began to move, slowly at first and it took all of his self-control not to hiss in pain. It’s not the worse he had, Colm never was, but the beginning never feels quite good either, always takes time for the pain to settle even with him. 

He focused on his own steady breathing, almost managing to disconnect from the act completely. He didn't let himself feel Colm again until Colm pushed against that spot in him that made him feel good, that made warmth spread through his body and his cock twitch. 

Colm was impatient tonight, already speeding up; thrusted into him in a fast pace, while letting his hands roam over him. 

Colm’s mouth descended upon his neck, kissing and sucking on the exposed skin. The smacking of his lips made him shudder. He was hard now without Colm even needing to touch his dick, only from the feeling of Colm inside him, of his kisses, and hands stroking his body.

“What makes you so special, hm?” Colm whispered in his ear. “The other whores take a dollar, maybe two if you want their ass. You think you’re worth fifty?”

“You think I’m worth fifty,” Arthur corrected, damning himself over how heavy his breath is, how strained he sounds. That’s the danger of having regulars, Colm had learnt how to get a reaction out of him, how to make him feel like he wanted it. “That desperate, huh, to get ya dick in me? Rather have me than, ugh, fifty girls?”

If his hands were free, he would have bitten into his fist to prevent himself from groaning when Colm once again brushed against that part deep inside of him. He couldn't suppress the sounds that escaped his lips.

“See, Arthur,” Colm grunted in his ear, punctuated it with another thrust and with a hand wrapped around his hard cock. “This is why I like you.” He began to stroke it. “Even the nastiest whores out there don’t moan like you do.” 

Arthur felt heat in his cheeks. “Bastard,” he said, and he tried to say something more, to get the last word as always but Colm’s pace was fast and hard now, just the way he liked it, and all that left him were whimpers as he felt himself reaching his climax. He came first, spilling his seed in Colm’s hand. Ain’t that pathetic?

“You didn’t last long,” Colm said with a breathy chuckle.

“Oh, shut it.” 

Colm grabbed his face, his fingers slick from cum. They dug into his cheeks. If he’s unlucky, they’ll leave bruises. That was probably the man’s intent. He didn't have the time to linger too much on that though, not when Colm kissed him, slipped his disgusting tongue into his mouth. It tasted like shit, stale breath and tobacco, and there was something about it that made him desire the man even more. He bit down hard on Colm’s lip, and Colm came in him with a guttural groan. 

There was almost a fond look in Colm’s eyes as he craddled his face in his hands and gave him one final kiss before pulling out. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Colm was sweet on him. 

Perhaps, he was. Colm had more than once implied that he wanted Arthur to follow him and Aidan home, wherever that was. 

He tried to collect himself and his thoughts while Colm redressed. He was quick about it, like he was in a hurry. 

“You gonna untie me now or what?” Arthur asked. The rope was digging into his wrists. Christ, he hated the feeling. Next time, he was gonna tell Colm to go and fuck himself if he suggested ropes again, no matter the amount he offered. Some things aren’t worth it. 

“Nah,” Colm said, while he looked for something in his satchel. Hopefully, the goddamn 50 dollars he promised. “I think I prefer you where you are.”

“Very funny,” Arthur drawled. “I ain’t asking. Untie me.” 

“I don’t think I will.” Colm smiled. No, leered at him and it felt like he’d been doused with cold water when he saw the gun in Colm’s hand. 

“How much do you think Dutch will give for ya?” Colm asked. Dutch? He could feel his heart race in his chest, his only was thought how the hell did Colm know about Dutch? His question was answered just a moment later. “You think he will give me back the two thousand he and that conman of his stole, hm? Are you worth that much?” 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dutch,” Colm said, “and mister Matthews broke our deal. Took off with all our hard-earned money. Not a very smart move on their side, neither was walking around with their whore of a son in broad daylight.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” Colm had no goddamn right calling him that, not now.

Colm laughed at him, and he really started to hate that awful noise. 

“Dutch kept raving about you, you know? His little killer,” Colm said. “Made me real curious, even more when Matthews was so adamant on not letting you join in on any of our plans. Then one of my men said that Dutch’s boy spent his nights on his knees, and I knew I had to try you out.” 

He’s so goddamn stupid, that’s all he could think. He knew that even more now, cursing himself for letting his guard down like this. He cursed Hosea and Dutch too, for never fucking telling him anything. Colm and that ugly piece of shit of a brother had played him all this time. 

“Untie me, now,” he growled, “What do you think you’re playin’ at here, you piece of sh-?”

Colm struck down with the pistol, it hit his ribs, forcing a scream out of him. 

“Careful there,” Colm said. “Keep sweet talking me like that and I might need a round two.” 

“I’ll shoot you." It was an empty threat. He was bound, beaten, set to be used in some feud he just now knew about. He felt so goddamn betrayed, and that feeling settled in his gut, turned to hatred in an instant; the only feeling he carried just as well as he carried anger. “Ugly piece of-” The pistol came down again, hitting him in the ribs and stealing his breath away.

“Don’t be like that, Arthur,” Colm said. “It could be a whole lot worse. My dear brother wanted to rough you up real good,” venom now seeped into his tone. “Would’va let you meet our other friends, and slit your throat when they were done. Seemed like a waste, if ya asked me. You see, I like you, Arthur, that was never a lie. No need to ruin that over your daddies' mistakes.”

They had a whole gang. Of fuckin’ course Dutch had tried to scam someone much more dangerous than him. 

“Besides,” Colm continued, “One good look at you like this and I think Dutch and Matthews will get the message not to mess with us again, no killing needed.” 

“Oh, they will kill you,” he snarled, “There won’t be anything left to bury once they’re done.”

“Not with you here.” 

Colm smacked him across the face with the butt of his gun, and then hit him once more over his temple. His vision went black for a moment, and Colm took that as an opportunity to shove a piece of cloth down his mouth. 

“There, now you are all prettied up,” he sneered. “Even looks like you tried to fight.”

He heard movement from outside, steps belonging to multiple people in the stairwell. 

“That must be them,” Colm said, a wide smile on that vulture-like face. “Put on a good show now.”

He promised himself there and then that he would make sure to be there when Colm finally bites the dust. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a part of a larger but scrapped work, second chapter is a completely optional ending
> 
> comments are appreciated!


	2. CODA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> optional ending

The weeks that followed were the most humiliating of his life. Dutch and Hosea coddled him, barely let him out of their sight, and looked at him with such pity in their eyes that he almost considered running away entirely. 

Colm and Aidan got away without a single scratch on them, because all it took for Dutch and Hosea to pay up was to see him tied up in that bed, bruises blossoming on his face and torso after Colm’s treatment. 

Dutch and Hosea fought over it, both blaming Hosea over letting Arthur go to that saloon that night. And, Arthur knew Dutch would hold this over Hosea from now on, making him feeling even more shitty over the whole situation he dragged them into.

They thought Colm raped him, and he didn't know if he prefers that over them knowing about him being a whore. 

Every time Hosea looked at him with guilt heavy in his eyes, Arthur considered telling him the truth. And every time, he stopped himself because he’s afraid that they would throw him out if they ever found out about all the things he let Colm do to him for money; all the things he let other men, old and young alike, do. Everything was wasted in the end, because they lost more money on trying to ‘save’ him from the O’Driscoll brothers than Arthur thought he ever made from his years servicing all kinds of men. 

He spent his days drawing in his journal or sleeping, as that’s the only thing Hosea let him do. No jobs, no hunting, no exploring... Just being stuck in camp until they decide that he’s ready to face the world. 

He  _ hated  _ it. 

Four weeks passed before they dared to leave him alone, again. Hosea needed a distraction, and therefore decided to meet the daughter of that oil baron, once more. Her name was Beatrice, Bessie for short. 

And Dutch, went out to rob a stagecoach.

For the first time in four weeks, he didn't have to feel them staring at him or trying to get him to talk to them. It felt like heaven, just sitting by the fireplace and writing without anyone bothering him.

The peace only lasted an hour, though. It broke when Dutch came back to camp.

He saw that Dutch was angry from afar. It was all in his steps, in the way he walked toward Arthur after unsaddling. 

He opened his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but Dutch was quicker. 

“I met Aidan,” Dutch said. He had never heard Dutch so cold, not even in that room weeks back. “I shot him, of course. He had some interesting stories about you.” 

A small clip of money was thrown into his lap. Five dollars. He felt nauseous all of sudden. He couldn't meet Dutch’s gaze, but felt it burn into him. 

“That’s your rate, isn’t it?”

Dutch couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be.

But when Arthur finally dared to look up, there was no sign of bluff on Dutch’s face. 

He took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“What would you have me do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be the beginning of a larger, much angstier work, where Dutch basically forces Arthur to continue that sort of work, so this was basically the chapter that was gonna lead into that. Decided to post it anyways, even though I currently don't plan on continuing this.


End file.
